The Fires of Saint Elmo
by Resfeber
Summary: Because we all know that Misaka Mikoto was never left untouched by the darkness of Academy City. AU. Series of one-shots.
1. A Child's Dream

The Fires of St. Elmo

Because there had to be a very good reason why her parents sent her to Academy City.

Chapter 1

She is six years old when she decides that she wants to go to Academy City. Of course, she doesn't want to leave home, with sun dried futons that smell like sunshine, the laughter like bells as they play Kick The Can, and a warm feeling deep in her chest as they eat dinner together. But it hasn't been like that for a while now. Her mother is busy with adult school –_you'll understand when you're older_- and her father has a job that she doesn't really understand but -_it's very important Mikoto so he has to go away right now. _Right now are cold leftovers in the refrigerator that she eats by herself in a silent room. There is an empty ache in the place in her chest that used to be filled with light.

But the espers on television are powerful and bright and shining, and Mikoto cannot help but want to be more like them. Someday, she'll be the best, the strongest, and no one will be able to look away because of they are busy, because she will be the most important thing in the world.

_- No one will ignore her ever again. -_

So when she goes up to her mother late at night when she is supposed to be asleep, she does not flinch when her mother frowns. The battered white door hangs slightly ajar from her entrance, casting a long shadow that reaches for her mother with long, delicate fingers. The light from the streetlamps drips through the razor thin gaps between the blinds, painting slim zebra stripes of light on the thick comforter of her parent's bed. An overstuffed bookcase looms over her mother on the far left wall, in stark contrast to the squat, overloaded desk washed in cheap light.

Misuzu turns at Mikoto's entrance, shadows stretching over her face from the light of the simple desk lamp. It shone, illuminating thick textbooks and mounds of papers, presumably for classes. The nice clothing her mother wore during the day was rumpled and sloppy from the lack of care shown to it late at night. Eyebrows furrowing slightly as she attempted to straighten her clothing, she somehow managed to convey her confusion at her studies being interrupted. Mikoto's chest tightened in dread. This was it.

"Mikoto, sweetie, you were supposed to be asleep hours-"

"IwanttogotoAcademyCity." Mikoto interrupted abruptly, her words loud stumbling over each other in their haste to escape, as if this was their only opportunity to be heard.

Misuzu blinks, eyes showing incomprehension for a moment before widening into surprise, as Mikoto's words registered.

"Wha-" Misuzu choked in a high voice, before cutting herself off. She closed her eyes, bringing up a hand to rub her tired eyes, and took a deep breath. Her hand shifted, revealing earthy dark eyes glinting with curiosity.

"Why do you want to go to Academy City?" Misuzu asked, her voice calm and surprisingly steady.

A pause. Confusion. "To become an esper." Mikoto replied, baffled. Her eyebrows furrowed, in an almost exact replica of her mother's expression. Why else would she want to leave home? For fun?

Misuzu locked eyes with Mikoto, her earth-toned irises weighing her daughter's words in her mind. A hint of a sardonic smile threatened to march its way across Misuzu's face.

"Yes, that much is obvious. But-" At this point, Misuzu's normally bubbly voice became more serious, a hint of weight appearing in her tone. "Why do you want to leave home? There are plenty of excellent schools around this area. Why do you want to go to Academy City?"

The yellow light from the cheap desk lamp flickered, twisting the shadows on their faces for a split second, before resuming it's previous steady beam of light. Mikoto took a breath, her eyes flickering to the side her a moment, attempting to escape her mother's probing gaze, before eventually meeting the intimidating stare once more.

Mikoto swallowed, a hard ball of anxiety expanding in her throat.

"I want to leave because it's too quiet here," she began slowly, her voice gradually gaining confidence. "And if I'm at a boarding school, there will be more people to take care of me, until I can do it myself. So you don't have to worry about that anymore. And I want to become an esper." By her final words, her voice had grown louder, firmer, not quite a shout, but neither was it a whisper. Her eyes flashed with the beginnings of a will stronger than steel. Her little chin firmed in childish stubbornness, the expression pinching her features slightly.

Misuzu's face blanked in confusion for a long moment, parsing the underlying meaning behind Mikoto's words. Her expression slowly darkening with a horrified realization, she gritted her teeth, the muscle in her jaw twitching with the strain. The clock continued to tick, lending the atmosphere an air of impending finality. Her mother's eyes steadily gazed at Mikoto; elaborate strands of thought twisting themselves into complex patterns shone behind her eyes. Unnerved, Mikoto shifted her weight from foot to foot.

With a disproportionally loud creak, her mother's chair shifted.

A pause. Silence. "I will look up the enrollment process starting tomorrow." Misuzu's tone was strangely formal. A whoosh of breath. Mikoto's shoulders slumped, the sudden lack of tension causing her muscles to slacken. A tingle of excitement bubbled up from her stomach, buzzing in her limbs. She was going to become an esper! Her young face lightened, excitement glittering in her eyes.

"Okay!" Her voice squeaked, higher than normal. With a bounce in her step, she turned to leave. She needed to go to bed. Though it seemed as if the entire world had shifted on its axis, there was still school tomorrow.

"And Mikoto-"

Mikoto paused, turning her upper body slightly back towards the silhouette of her mother, the yellow light of the desk lamp casting Misuzu's face into shadow. She couldn't see her expression.

"…I…no, _we_ are sorry. Truly sorry."

Mikoto was confused, but nodded anyways. "It's fine, Mom." After all, she would forgive her family anything. Even if she didn't know what exactly they were apologizing for. In a silent motion, Mikoto slipped away, her slight form vanishing into the shadows of the darkened house. As if she were never there at all.

/

Author' Note

Hey y'all, this fic is pretty much my dumping ground for Toaru Kagaku no Railgun story ideas. It will be less of a story, and more of a collection of one shots containing my personal head canon. I really love Misaka Mikoto's character, and wanted to do a bit more exploration of her personality, powers, and past. Oh, cool, they all start with a "P." Haha, back to the topic. This won't exclusively be a Misaka Mikoto fic, but I will be concentrating on her. These are just my ideas concerning stuff like, "Why did Mikoto go to Academy City in the first place?" Stuff like that.

Please, please review! If no one tells me what you think, I don't know how to improve. Anything! Even a "You suck!" would work! I'll even thank you! Remember- reviews are love. They also encourage me to write faster. (Yes, that is subtle bribery. Yes, I also say this shamelessly.) So please, review!

Disclaimer: I don't own Toaru Kagaku no Railgun, or any of its characters. I do, however, own this fic. No touchie.


	2. The Experiment

Because attaining Level Five and beating up thugs in alleyways doesn't miraculously grant you the ability to defeat giant robots, AIM monsters, and professional mercenary combat units.

Chapter 2

"**Project: Level Five Shift.** **Combat trial: 62**."The faceless scientist's monotone voice crackled through the speakers, echoing across the blank white room. It was a perfect cube, the dimensions exacting, and corners at sharp right angles. It was impersonal. Uniform. Each of the sides was about sixty meters long. There were no windows. Instead, recording equipment was seamlessly integrated into the sides and ceiling of the testing facility. From a distance, they were unnoticeable, fading into the bland coloring of the walls. Mikoto stood at the very center of the room; fiber optic cables embedded within the high tech floor panels providing a glowing red circle to stand in.

"**Subject: Misaka Mikoto. Level: Four**_." _ She wore tough, but disposable clothing, provided by the researchers. At the conclusion of the experiment, they will be disposed of. A pair of tan shorts, and a white, canvas short-sleeve shirt- simple choices that offered little by way of protection. Her feet were bare; she had lost her shoes some time before. Mikoto shifted. The clothing itched. She had thin, almost invisible strips of plastic pasted on her temples, chest, back, and wrists. They collected more specific data than the equipment in the floor panels. The information was then sent to the computer terminals of various scientists for analysis.

Her hair was singed at the back, tiny cuts speckling her arms. Mikoto leaned heavily on her right leg, dried blood crusting her left, painting her skin a rusty brown. Some had soaked into the thick fabric of her shorts, the congealed blood stiffening the already uncomfortable fabric into a coarse, board-like material.

"**Date: May 3, 20XX. Time: 17:29:43."** The harsh light of the glowing ceiling tiles stabbed into her earth-toned eyes like a thousand needles. They watered. She blinked. Her muscles trembled with exhaustion; her entire body ached with a deep need to just _stop_ and _rest_ and _sleep_- but she won't get a break. Her hands twanged in pain from first-degree burns – _I wasn't fast enough_- and her upper left leg screamed in agony from the deep knife wound – _he was so mad but I didn't mean to hurt his friendsobadhonest_-. The laceration had clotted some time ago, but it throbbed and felt like a molten wire was being shoved in her veins every time she so much as twitched.

"**Objective: Observe the development of Electromaster abilities in a combat situation."**Ragged breathing filled her ears; the rushing blood in her veins consumed the silence. Mikoto was tired. She doubted that she could produce respectable electrical attack at this point. Dimly, she wondered what she would have to fight this time. A giant mechanized robot? Hysterical giggles bubbled up in her chest at the thought, though she quickly smothered any desire to laugh. Actually, she wouldn't rule out that possibility. It was insane enough that those crazy scientists might actually do it. All the same, a grim smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

She was exhausted, injured, and alone. She was about to face an unknown, but undoubtedly deadly enemy. She had no weapons or armor, save for her fatigued Electromaster abilities and the clothes on her back. Mikoto tilted her head down, ragged chestnut bangs covering her eyes in shadow.

"**Begin."**

But she will not give up.

The lighted ceiling panels shut off simultaneously, dyeing the arena an inky black. She cussed under her breath. Of course this couldn't be easy. Flailing in panic for a moment, Mikoto forced herself to calm down.

"Calm down, idiot. We went over this in class weeks ago." She muttered to herself. _"Not that you actually tried to put the theory into practice,"_ a traitorous voice in the back of her head hissed. Mikoto crushed it ruthlessly with practiced ease. She could not afford distracted right now, even by herself. Shutting her eyes, she concentrated deeply. Carefully, she began analyzing the paths of the electromagnetic waves involuntarily emitted by her body, using the formulas she memorized in class. Slowly, a picture of glowing blue lines formed in her mind's eye. A cube, a rough model of the room she was standing in. Due to her Level, it was not exact, and it flickered a little if she didn't concentrate on her calculations, but it would work. A shaky smile formed on her lips. She might actually be able to sustain this. It didn't require much power, being more passive analysis than an active ability.

She heard the groaning whine of the side panels as they shifted apart, allowing whatever she was facing, entrance. Her mental picture altered slightly, accommodating for the change in her surroundings. The threat- no, threats- glided in like silent shadows to her normal senses, footsteps soundless against the plastic floor. But none of that impressive show of skill mattered against her Radar Sense.

The glowing outlines of ten people advanced steadily towards her position. Mercenaries, no doubt. Hissing obscenities under her breath, Mikoto probed in their direction, pulsing a low level current around the mercenaries to check for metals she could use against them. There were none. She checked her Radar Sense. There was something around each of their heads- probably some type of night vision goggles- well that explained their apparent confidence in the darkness. They were apparently insulated as well, because Mikoto couldn't feel the metal that undoubtedly made up the insides. She frowned. Now that just wasn't fair. Her advantage to "see" in the dark was gone. And her exhausted abilities couldn't take out the goggles- if she were fresh, definitely. But now… not so much. Not against Academy City EMP shielding.

Looking again, Mikoto could assume that they were also wearing some type of protective gear, as their silhouettes were oddly shaped and thicker than the average man to her Radar Sense. None of them had projectile weapons. They seemed to all be holding a foot-long, thin baton, or at least something similar. Their grips and stances were competent; they moved smoothly in tight formation. The mercenaries would reach Mikoto's position in a few seconds.

_-Damn it, nothing to use. - _

She frowned, fear creeping up her spine. They had been warned about her abilities, then. That was new. And troublesome, she thought, dodging to the left of the first strike. Her wounds protested, but she ignored them as best she could. She could cry later. Spinning behind the Guy #1, she slammed her right foot into the back of his knee. Tears burned beneath her eyelids as her left leg screamed in agony, and she muffled a shriek of pain. He buckled, falling into a kneeling position, a surprised grunt escaping from his lips. They always expected her to only use her abilities. Sucks for them. Mikoto twisted, using the centrifugal force of her maneuver to smash her right elbow into Guy #1's neck. He flopped limply to the floor, unconscious.

One down, nine to go.

But the other mercenaries hadn't been idle as she took out their comrade. Quickly scooping up Guy #1's baton, Mikoto scampered from the body, dodging the blow that would have connected with her head. Guy #2 stepped over the slumped form of his comrade, evidently coolly dismissing the casualty. Mikoto tightened her grip on her new weapon, her burns twanging at the action, while continuously walking backwards to prevent Guys #3-9 from flanking her. If they managed to get behind her, she was finished.

But Guy #2 was much taller than her, his long legs closing the distance between them quickly. Bringing his right arm up, he brought his baton slashing towards her face. Mikoto barely managed to bring her weapon up in time in a desperate move. But Guy #2 was a fully-grown man. Mikoto was a young girl, despite her prowess in esper abilities. It wasn't even a contest. Their identical weapons connected with a loud crack, Guy #2's superior strength sending Mikoto's baton clattering to the floor. Impact numbing her hand, Mikoto lurched backwards, trying to twist her body away from Guy #2's next attack. But her wounds, along with general exhaustion picked the least convenient time to start acting up.

She wasn't fast enough.

Blood filled her mouth as her head whipped to the side from the shattering impact. Her mental picture of the room flickered, before fading into darkness. She was blind, save for the blobs of light that filled her vision. Stunned, Mikoto fell to the floor. Another impact, this time on her stomach. She gagged, the blinding pain causing her to reach. She hadn't eaten in hours; nothing but stomach acid and bile came up. Another impact. Then another. Then another. Pain rained down on her from all directions, emerging from the darkness in a blast of fiery agony, before retreating into the shadows once more.

"_I…don't …want to die."_

She couldn't think- she could barely keep herself breathing. The mercenaries had surrounded her by now; they were taking their sweet time in finishing her off. But, she supposed allowances could be made, due to their lack of projectile weapons.

Was this to be her fate? Bludgeoned to death in blank room, by hollow men who lived only to destroy, under the thumb of insane researchers?

"_I…don't want to die_."

She was growing weaker by the second, strength and will and life leaking away from her body like water from a cracked cup. She felt dark waters in her mind rising to swallow her up, to sink her down in an ocean of silence.

"_I don't want to die."_

But what could she do? Her abilities were next to useless; she could hardly produce even a spark.

…Oh.

That.

…She could do that.

If she didn't want to die, that was the only thing she _could_ do.

Mikoto's right index finger twitched. She was cold. Her body was in agony, pain trickling down her limbs like ice water. (Or was it blood?) But she ignored it. Her tired mind sluggishly summoned up the needed equations, inputting the relevant values and carefully arriving at the result. She only had one shot at this. It could not fail.

She breathed in deeply, broken ribs sending shards of white-hot pain digging into her chest. The mercenaries were still pounding away at her slumped form, but the pain was far away now, as if she were feeling everything through a thick layer of cotton. Mikoto imagined she said something, but she couldn't be sure. It may have only happened in her mind. She hoped she managed to gurgle it out, through the blood and the pain and the dark.

"I'm sorry."

Mikoto pulsed her AIM field, intentionally bolstering the electromagnetic waves that surrounded her body. She only had enough power to sustain Radar Sense for a split second, but it was enough. She had the exact location of every one of the nine men still remaining.

And then, she rammed all her remaining electricity straight into their hearts.

Screaming filled her ears, but it was distant and warped, like listening to voices underwater. One, two, three, the moment stretched into eternity. Thuds sounded around her like popcorn. She gagged- the air smelled like burnt hair and cooking pork. There was silence.

The lights turned on.

Mikoto flinched, the momentarily blind. Her eyes watered. She told herself it was from the pain. Slowly, she managed to pry her eyes open. She was lying in a pool blood. Her blood. The precious liquid was splattered all over the floor, smeared around by the boot prints and flailing of the mercenaries. Lumps of smoking flesh encased in dull black protective gear surrounded her, faces frozen in twisted expressions of horror. Clawed hands gripped their chests.

They died in excruciating pain. One of them faced her. His jaw hung open, as if in shock, his night vision goggles shielding the rest of his face from view. The black glass was cracked, giving her a glimpse of one of the man's eyes. Capillaries had burst during Mikoto's electrical attack, lending the milky white orb a pinkish tint. Crushed glass glittered in the frozen light like fairy dust. Blood collected in the corner of his eye, dripping out in a gruesome imitation of tears. He stared at her in silent condemnation.

Why? He seemed to scream. Why did you kill me, you monster?

The groaning of the side panels sounded again. Mikoto closed her eyes, desperately wishing away her cruel reality. The speakers in the corners of the room crackled to life.

"**End of experiment: confirmed. Time: 17:36:52. Date: No change. Subject Status: heavily injured. Requesting immediate medical treatment. Secondary Subjects: Nine deceased. One injured…" **The monotone voice faded into the background like white noise as medical personnel rushed into the room, barely a hitch in their pace as they took in the sight of the battlefield. They were professionals, long since desensitized to scenes like this. Mikoto's vision began to turn white around the edges, objects (or were they people?) blurring in and out of focus. Squeaky wheels chirped and whined as they crossed the marred floor. Mikoto continued to stare at the man's stiff face, his eye still leaking bloody tears.

Drip.

Drop.

Flurries of sound and movement surrounded her, clinical voices blending together. Medical personnel cut away her clothes, ripping off recording equipment and prodding at her wounds. They started to move her body onto the wheeled bed, strapping her neck and limbs in place. But it was too much, after the immense strain Mikoto had placed on her mind with her last attack. The rising waters swelled.

Mikoto sank beneath the waves, into darkness.

Peace.

/~/~/~/~/~/

She slowly rose to awareness, the steady beeping of a heart monitor calling her back to the land of the living. Her muscles were relaxed, in the way they are after overexerting themselves the day before. No doubt it'll be painful when she tries to move. Mikoto twitched. _"Yup, definitely painful,_" she thought with a wince. Her throat felt as dry as the Sahara, and tasted like something had crawled up and died in her mouth. Mikoto swallowed thickly. She wanted water. Mikoto felt constricting material covering her limbs. Bandages. The air smelled like antiseptic; she was lying in cool, crisp sheets that smelled like bulk purchase detergent. Not unpleasant- in fact, her dormitory used the same brand. If anything, it was comforting. Sunlight warmed her skin, trailing patterns of light and shadow on her face. It dyed the insides of her eyelids a warm, comforting orange. The air was still.

Slowly, Mikoto opened her eyes, allowing her vision to adjust, before continuing to pry them open, millimeter by millimeter. Eventually, they managed to open up all the way. She stared at the newly revealed white ceiling. She frowned, lips tugging downwards in a scowl. She didn't like white walls. "_Not to mention_," she thought, levering up her upper body, "_they're boring_." Abdominal muscles straining, Mikoto sat up. Looking around, she observed her surroundings, casting a critical eye over the room. It was small, but large enough to fit in a few narrow beds, along with some medical equipment that surrounded her bed. An IV was stuck in her left arm, dripping in a clear liquid. Probably painkillers, she mused, judging by her body's relatively pain-free state. White walls, adorned with a few tasteless pictures surrounded her. There was no clock, nor a television. Definitely not a normal hospital, she concluded.

Mikoto was the sole occupant of the room, taking up a single bed next to the large window. The blinds were open, letting the natural light pour in through the glass. Judging by the position of the sun, it was about noon. Blinking, she noticed the plastic cup of water on her bedside table. Quickly grabbing it, she recklessly slugged it back, thin rivulets of water streaming down her chin. The water that actually managed to make its way into her body slid down her throat, only to settle into an empty stomach. It growled lowly. Mikoto sighed, staring down at her midsection, silently willing for food to magically appear to satiate her growing hunger. Settling back in her pillows, she forced herself to relax, resigning herself to waiting for a nurse or someone to come by.

As if summoned by her thoughts, the door opened. A woman, unquestionably a doctor, walked in, her lab coat flaring behind her dramatically. She had rather bland features, neither beautiful nor ugly, the type of face you see in a crowd but immediately forget once you turn away. The woman had typical Asian characteristics: black hair, almond shaped eyes, a short stature. Apart from her distinctive white lab coat, she wore no other noteworthy clothing choices. A simple light blue button-down peeked out from under coat, paired with professional black pants. The woman paused at the sight of Mikoto sitting up.

"Oh, you woke up? Sorry I wasn't here earlier. My cute little coworkers were demanding my attention." Her deep brown eyes sparkled, practically shimmering with innocence and sincerity. "Is there anything you need? Are you uncomfortable? In pain? Anything?"

Mikoto blinked, slightly surprised at the doctor's bedside manner. "Ah…no, I'm fine. Err…what should I call you?"

The woman blinked in incomprehension, before flushing in embarrassment. "I'm sorry, that was rather rude of me. My name is Tanaka Mizuno. I hope we get along well!" To add to Tanaka's rather dazzling affect, she gave Mikoto an eye-wateringly bright smile. Rather stunned, Mikoto could only blink in stupefied shock. She imagined she looked rather dimwitted at that moment, but she could hardly help herself. Tanaka was just too strange to be real.

"…Likewise." After an awkward silence, Mikoto belatedly gave her response, trying to salvage the situation. Suddenly remembering her hunger, Mikoto hastily amended her earlier statement.

"Umm… Tanaka-sensei, I'm sorry for not mentioning this earlier, but could I have some food? It's been ages since I last ate."

"Oh?" Mizuno's dark eyes sharpened at that information. "And why might that be?" Mikoto's brow furrowed, confused. Why didn't Tanaka know? Wasn't this doctor part of the Level Five Shift project? However, Mikoto knew the consequences for leaking information- she wouldn't wish that fate on her worst enemy, much less an unsuspecting doctor. So Mikoto decided to play dumb.

"Because I was unconscious."

Silence.

So long, in fact, that Mikoto began to think she misjudged Tanaka. Sweat beaded Mikoto's hairline- was Tanaka mad? Hysterical giggles filled the room, like tinkling bells.

"Oh, Misaka-chan, you're so adorable!" Tanaka flew towards Mikoto, gathering her up in a crushing hug.

"Gack!" Mikoto choked. "Tanaka…sensei… I can't…breathe…" she wheezed, futilely attempting to wiggle out of Tanaka's grasp. In response, Tanaka's grip just tightened more.

"I just can't take it anymore! You're just… too cute!" Tanaka squealed in absolute delight.

"Gurgle…" Was all Mikoto gave in response. Eventually, though, she was released from the Hug of Death. She caught her breath.

Tanaka giggled. "Sorry, Misaka-chan. I forget my strength sometimes!" She lightly slapped the back of her head in self-admonishment.

"You got that right." Mikoto muttered under her breath, gaze sliding to the other side of the room, a bland look on her face.

"Huh? What was that?" Though Tanaka's tone could only be described as sunny, with a smile that could have powered the entirety of Academy City, Mikoto could not escape the feeling of imminent doom. The chill of death swept across her skin. There was no doubt about it. Mikoto was about to die.

"No-nothing…" Immediately, the atmosphere of approaching disaster vanished, replaced by sunshine and birdsong.

"Oh, good! It must've been my imagination!" Mikoto sighed in relief, releasing the breath she didn't realize she had been holding. _"Scary. Doctors are scary."_

"Anyways, I can have a meal brought up here, or you can discharge yourself and buy something from a restaurant." Tanaka explained, returning the conversation to the original point. Mikoto blinked, confused.

"Discharge myself…" she looked down at the bandages still covering her limbs, confusion heavy in her tone.

Tanaka smiled. "You're actually fully recovered. When you were transferred here from a private hospital, you were somehow bumped up to the top of the Esper Healing waiting list. As a result, you are nearly at perfect health. When you are discharged, we'll put you on a round of antibiotics as a safety measure." Mikoto smiled.

"So I can leave now?" She asked eagerly. Tanaka nodded, frowning slightly.

"While I can't legally prevent you from leaving, I'd like you to stay at the hospital for another night under observation. You arrived here in critical condition, and I'd like to keep here for a while longer, just to make sure there won't be any problems." Mikoto nodded pensively, considering her options.

"I'd like to be discharged, please." She requested. Tanaka sighed slightly, but nodded.

"I'll bring up the paperwork, along with the personal possessions you transferred with. I'll get you your antibiotics prescription, as well as a doctor's note excusing your absence from your dormitory." Tanaka replied, walking out of the room. Poking her head back through the doorway, she grinned. "Also, you might want to use the shower before you leave. You look disgusting." Mikoto's face flared a brilliant red, as she launched her pillow like a high-speed projectile.

"Shut up, you crazy doctor-lady!" Peals of bright laughter and yells of righteous fury rang through the halls of the hospital in the noonday sun.

/~/~/~/~/~/

Mikoto sighed, knocking a pebble away from her path with one of her crutches. That crazy doctor had forced them on her before she could refuse, and ordered her to use them. Tanaka-sensei had even included it on her doctor's note. If Mikoto didn't use them now, she would get into trouble with her school. Not to mention, she had been so incensed by Tanaka's audacity, that she had stormed away without asking for directions. Which brought her here, to this pitiful state. At least she had her own clothes back.

"Where am I…" she moaned, glaring daggers at the sky as if it were at fault. In response, the sun seemed only to shine brighter and more cheerily than before. For some reason, this pissed her off, and Mikoto was filled with energy supplied by her sudden annoyance.

"Ah! You're just like that insufferable woman!" She shouted, waving her fist wildly towards the sky in a show of defiance. She only gained strange looks from pedestrians for her trouble. Mikoto sighed, slumping, her energy draining away as quickly as it came.

"Really…where am I?" Sighing again, this time more deeply, Mikoto picked a random direction, and started to walk (re: hobble along with her crutches) forward. She would eventually come across a bus stop, and they all went around the city- she'd just ride the bus until she ended up in her district. From there, she could walk back to her dormitory.

So, Mikoto walked on. It was a sunny day, with a cool breeze chasing away the slight heat. It tugged at her still damp hair- Mikoto took up Tanaka-sensei's offer to shower at the hospital. She really did need one. It was a Sunday, so all the students were out and about, having fun. Unfortunately for her, this also meant that the sidewalks were full of rowdy teenagers. Sighing for the umpteenth time that day, Mikoto sidestepped yet another teen who wasn't looking where they were going.

"Honestly…its like idiocy is a disease, and they all contracted it during puberty." Mikoto hissed, dodging yet another rowdy teenager. Thankfully, the bus stop was within sight. Mikoto quickened her pace. No one was sitting on the benches yet, and she didn't want to stand while waiting for the bus. She slid onto the bench, propping up her superfluous crutches on the side in one fluid motion.

"Safe!" Mikoto grinned to herself in satisfied triumph. She managed to snag a seat for herself before it was occupied by some random teen. Leaning back in the uncomfortable metal chair, she stretched her aching muscles. Mikoto had been right, this morning. It was painful to move around, and likely would stay that way for the next couple of days. Glancing at the bus schedule, Mikoto noted that the bus was due to arrive in five minutes. Also, she wasn't as far from her dorm as she thought, only a couple stops away. _"Wah, how lucky!" _She would only have to wait for a little while until she could return to her dorm. And sleep.

Mikoto smiled faintly at that. Although she had rested at the hospital for the night, she was still exhausted. "_Also, starving_," she thought, glaring at her stomach. She'd grab something from a vending machine later. The bus wheezed to a stop, the unexpected noise startling her out of her thoughts. Sighing, Mikoto levered herself up, using her crutches as support. Though she would never admit it to that insufferable woman, Mikoto was grateful for the crutches. Although she was healed for the most part, the remnants of the deep knife wound still sent protested if she put too much weight on her leg.

Stumbling onto the bus, she fumbled with her student ID card, scanning it to pay her fare. Quickly finding an open space, Mikoto slumped into the plastic seat directly behind the driver, shoving her crutches into the seat next to her. This done, she patiently waited for the bus to make its way down to her district, only about a ten minutes drive. There weren't very many people on the bus, only a couple of adults making their way back to their workplace after a late lunch. The bus rocked while making its way down the street, lulling Mikoto into a light doze. Her eyelids felt heavy; her limbs were like lead. The gentle murmur of whispered conversation buzzed in her ears. Mikoto breathed deeply, relaxing her tense muscles for the first time in what seemed like forever.

Only to tense right up again when the intercom system loudly announced her destination. Annoyance rekindled, Mikoto maneuvered herself out of her seat, and off the bus. Standing at the bus stop, Mikoto glanced around, relaxing slightly. She recognized the area; it wouldn't take long to get back to her dorm at all. It was still early afternoon; Mikoto could still see students casually hanging out with their friends. She began to walk in the direction of her dorm. It was just around the corner- a tall, ordinary apartment complex, with students regularly entering and exiting the building. Never had Mikoto been so grateful for the automatic sliding doors than in that moment.

Cool air poured out into the street, chasing away the late summer heat. Mikoto dragged herself in through the door, turning immediately into the Dorm Manager's office, to the right of the entrance. Thankfully, he was in, blinking rapidly in surprise as she yanked open the door.

"Oh, Misaka-san, you're back? I hope you have a good excuse. Truancy isn't taken lightly at this school. " Kurogane-san stated, setting down some paperwork he had obviously been reading.

"Ah, yes, I have my doctor's note right here." Mikoto related, rummaging around through her pockets. "I also have the timesheet from the research company I was working with this weekend." She added, placing her crinkled papers on his long desk. "You should receive a confirmation notice in your email later this week."

He nodded, glancing through her papers. "Thanks for your timeliness about these. You won't believe the number of students who forget to pick theirs up, or even lose them."

"I can imagine." Mikoto inserted awkwardly, thinking back to all the students who nearly knocked her off her feet before she reached the bus stop. Kurogane smiled.

"Regardless, thank you. Mah, if that's all…" He trailed off uncertainly. Looking into his eyes, Mikoto saw his apprehension at speaking to her, the prodigy esper child. She forced a smile to her face.

"Yes, that's all. Have a good evening." Mikoto bowed slightly before exiting the room.

Making her way quickly up to her room, she shoved her key into the lock, roughly twisting the knob to open the door. It was a small room, built to hold only one person. Her bed, desk, and bookcase took up most of the space; clothing was scattered around on the floor. The blinds were shut, filtering the sunshine and noise to a more manageable level. It was shady and cool. Her crutches clattered to the wooden floor as she limped over to her bed. Collapsing into a heap of fabric and aching flesh, Mikoto closed her eyes, curling into a ball.

Drip.

Drop.

The man's eye, dripping bloody tears flashed in her mind. Mikoto flinched, curling up even tighter. "I…killed people yesterday." She bit her lip, hard enough to draw blood. A heavy ball of guilt tightened in her gut. She wanted to cry. The dark depression she hadn't allowed herself to reflect on in public came crashing down on her all at once. Conflicting emotions waged war in her mind.

Relief that she had survived.

Guilt, that she had killed people to do so.

Despair, that she was going to have to do it again.

Stifled sobs echoed in her room, despite desperate attempts to muffle them. But greatest among these feelings was loneliness. Because Misaka Mikoto was only nine years old, and nobody cared.

/~/~/~/~/~/

Author's Note:

So. Yeah. I…have no idea how this chapter happened. Like, really. I thought it was going to be much shorter. Then suddenly…this monstrosity was born. Wow. My respect for all those authors who crank out 20,000 word chapters has risen exponentially.

So. Tanaka Mizuno. Oops? I really didn't mean to write her in. I mean- I had planned for some faceless doctor character to give Misaka some pills and boot her out of the hospital. Really. Then Tanaka butted in with her terrifying adorableness, and tore my story plan to shreds. Slight amount crack in the middle- again, oops. I really did try to be serious, but…I kinda fail at that.

So yeah, sorry about putting in an OC character in there, but it was bound to happen. We will be seeing more of her, but I promise I won't make, like, ten million new characters. This is AU though, so expect some divergence.

Also, the whole chronological order thing? Not gonna happen. I have a bunch of story prompts just sitting around in my notebook, waiting to be written, but my muse picks and chooses what it wants to write. So later, I might rearrange the chapters into something resembling order, but it's definitely not happening right now. Misaka is about nine in this one-shot, so way before anything canon.

People who reviewed! All five of you! You rock! Everyone else sucks. No, just kidding. But seriously, please, please review! I'll even shamelessly bribe you with worthless Internet currency! Tubs of worthless Internet currency! Olympic pools worth of the stuff! Reviews really are nice to receive though, so please take, like, fifteen seconds out of your day and tell me what you think.

To answer a question posted in a review (hint hint, go leave a review): I haven't really thought about which couple I support, or about putting Mikoto together with anyone. Until I decide, I'll probably stick with her canon infatuation with Touma. Kuroko will still be perverted, so expect some humor on that end.

Disclaimer: I really, really don't own To Aru Kagaku no Railgun, or any of the characters, or anything. It's depressing. Stop making me write about it.


	3. Short Circuit: Part One

Because no power comes without a price.

Chapter 3

Ragged breathing pierced the silence of the darkened room, swallowed by the hungry shadows the instant they slipped past her lips, sinking into the muted black without even a ripple to show their passing. Rumbling thunder echoed in the distance; crystal droplets of icy water tapped on the thick window like an unsteady heartbeat, a steady wash of white noise.

In.

Out.

Crackling static crawled over her body, snapping fiercely in her bangs. Flickering blue light cast shadows across the room, distorting shapes and turning the most innocent of objects into monsters. Kuroko mumbled, shifting in her sleep. Mikoto curled into herself tightly, as if she could hug the shattered pieces of herself back together.

In.

Out.

Grating awareness of everything filled Mikoto's mind. She felt the hum and flow electricity in her room, in the dorm, in her District, in the whole of Academy City. Her awareness dwelt in the hovering, grumbling dark clouds, in the buzzing electrons throwing their miniscule bodies in erratic patterns in a demented, complex dance. And she felt them all.

_- Don't think about it. -_

Conflicting forces, positive and negative, waged war outside, in an ever changing, shifting battleground. The faint pulsing electricity in the human body was distracting, the bioelectricity stuttering in random patterns, as if in response to the roaring battles of their wild kindred in the heavens. It was midnight, but a daunting minority of the population was still awake. Using trains, and buses, and computers, and making phone calls, and _pulsing, grating electromagnetic waves that tore at her mind and her sanity until she just- couldn't-_

In.

Out.

_- Don't think about it. -_

Mikoto drew in a shuddering breath, electricity crackling more intensely around her, cocooning her in a hissing raiment of deadly light. Academy City rotated in her mind, electromagnetic paths echoing in a glowing, unearthly blue, tumbling into infinity. Mikoto could normally keep a handle on the passive ability, limiting her awareness to a city block or so, but sometimes, in the dead of night when the thunder growled in anticipation of glorious battle, when she woke up screaming and the stars burned cold and they drowned in the inky waters of the sky, she-

Could-

Feel-

Everything-

And she couldn't stop.

A whimper escaped her lips as her senses stretched, up into the clouds and the clashing thunder and the lightning and the hazy, vibrating sensation of St. Elmo's fire, cloaking skyscrapers in a burning shroud of holy, blessed light. Kuroko shifted at the noise, her face scrunching slightly. Mikoto choked, holding her breath, tamping down on the screams that wanted to burst from her throat. There was no need to worry Kuroko. She was fine; she could deal with this on her own. It was just a part of being a Level Five Electromaster. It happened often enough; there was no need to worry others, she repeated to herself.

Out of control, her abilities tracked every shift, every flux in the surrounding area without her consent. Pain burned at the base of her skull as lighting struck a skyscraper 35.2466 kilometers and 27.544 degrees north-by-northeast of her position, tearing a jagged stream of pure energy through the air, slamming into a sophisticated lightning rod, before being dispersed into the cold, soaked earth. This time, Mikoto could not conceal her choked whimper, the sheer power of the strike burning its precise path in electric blue shades in her mind. Pain flared in her mind, as the influx of stimuli exceeded her physical limits.

In.

Out.

_- Don't think about it. - _

"Onee-sama?" A sleepy voice, thick with the cobwebs of dreams, drifted over to Mikoto's ears. She mentally cursed through the haze of pain that clung to her mind. Kuroko cracked her eyes open a sliver, her unfocused gaze falling to Mikoto, covered in a delicate web of silky light. Mikoto did not reply. A little deliriously, she desperately willed Kuroko to fall back asleep, for her to dismiss the occurrence as a nothing but a particularly inspired dream.

"Onee-sama?" Kuroko repeated, a thrill of fear weaving through her voice, eyes snapping open as she realized that something was wrong. Mikoto bit her tongue, forcing back tears. She didn't want anyone to see her like this.

"Ku-kuroko." Mikoto ground out, her voice wavering, as she split her attention between speaking and attempting to regain control of her power. "You should… go back to sleep." Kuroko flung her blankets off, nearly tripping over herself in her haste. Scrambling over to Mikoto's side, she reached out her hand.

"Don't touch me." Sharp and commanding, Mikoto's voice froze Kuroko in place. She reared back as if she were slapped. Mikoto's slim frame shuddered, flickering with threads of blue static. "Not right now. I don't want…to hurt you." Softer this time, Mikoto attempted to rectify the damage caused by her earlier tone.

"O-onee-sama…" Kuroko murmured uncertainly, her eyes glowing in fright, mixed with concern.

In.

Out.

"I'm fine." Mikoto shakily asserted, sounding as if she was trying to convince herself as much as Kuroko. Lightning struck again, this time 13.784 kilometers and 17.438 degrees east-by-northeast. The storm was drawing closer. She doubled over, fresh waves of pain rippling through her mind; the shorter distance to the energy intensifying the pain. The static that clung to her body like a second skin grew brighter, denser, louder.

_- It's too much. -_

"I'm fine, I'm fine, Imfine, imfineimfine…" her words slurred together as the influx of stimuli exceeded her physical limits, forming an unintelligible babble of noise. Mikoto was far, far away now, the greater part of her consciousness lingering in the shivering energy leaping across the sky. Whatever was left of her mind noted distantly that Kuroko's eyes were wide in fright, almost panicky, as she stumbled from the room, slamming on the lights and shouting for someone, anyone to come _helphelphelp_.

Mikoto smiled slightly, through the pain and the static buzzing inside her skull, accompanying the dizzying map that burned vivid blue against the dark of her mind. Because her powers were rapidly tumbling from her control, and the storm drew only closer. And she would not allow Kuroko to be hurt, especially not by her own hands. And Mikoto only had a split second warning before-

Energy split the skin of the world.

Roaring filled her ears and her mind; she screamed alongside the thunder.

Withering, white-hot pain that rippled through her mind was her only reality.

The tang of copper filled her mouth. Spots danced across her vision.

_- When had she ended up on the floor? -_

The wood was hot against her pale, sparking skin, charred floorboards flaking charcoal onto her smoking pajamas. Dimly, Mikoto was aware of panicking voices and flashing lights smearing together into an incomprehensible mass. Prodding hands covered in boiling, melting rubber and the burning smell of plastic and a terrible pain in her head and it was all so much like the experiments, those _horriblehorrible_ experiments that she left so, so broken. There was screaming and crying and muddled thoughts floundering through the misty confusion and a warm coppery liquid leaking from her eyes in bloody, imitation tears like that man from so long ago. The _rippingtearingsnapping_ sensation of _moremore_ electricity and phone calls and _painpainpain_ and _'please God, make me into a stone.' _

And Mikoto felt the dark waters swell up once more in the back of her mind, pulling her down into their silent depths. And she was almost relieved, because under those blessed dark waters, she didn't have to feel-

Anything.

/~/~/~/~/~/

Darkness.

It enveloped her in a comforting blanket, muffling sound and sensation and thought. She did not dream. All that lay before her eyes was a vast expanse of nothingness. No vivid, glowing blue lines, gleaming razor sharp in the black. No buzzing awareness of the passage of electricity, the pulsing, bursting life that dwelled within every human, every building, every street, and every sky. There was no shifting ocean of electromagnetic noise, washing her in constant stimulation. There was no detailed knowledge of her surroundings, afforded to her by the unconscious analysis of electricity exuded by her AIM field. In a way, it was almost a relief, to be free from the constant deluge of information, most of it useless.

But it made Mikoto uneasy, almost paranoid.

The moment she had gained her Electromaster abilities, she had also gained a primitive form of her passive electronic sensing skill. It grew in parallel to her other Electromaster abilities, expanding into a precise knowledge of every electric, electromagnetic, and magnetic field that existed and moved around her, coupled with the unprecedented ability to see electromagnetic paths with the unaided eye. But now, that extra sense had vanished, throwing her off balance.

That paranoia accompanied her as she woke, panic thick in her chest, tensing her muscles and straining her regular senses in an effort to approximate her surroundings.

_She couldn't feel anything_.

Itchy, constricting cloth instantly recognized as bandages was wrapped around her arms. It confused her for a moment. Just what had happened last night? Her head felt heavy, as if someone had shoved lead inside her skull. She shifted slightly, testing her mobility. Constricting starched sheets inhibited her movements, preventing her from doing more than twitching her legs. Her left arm was trapped under something warm. Stifling air pressed against her lungs; her heart began to beat faster as she began to panic.

She couldn't feel anything.

She was trapped.

Anything-

Anyone-

Could sneak up on her now, shoving a knife into her chest or sending a bullet piercing through her body _as coppery blood welled up in her throat and filled her nose with a thick, metallic scent and coated her tongue, bubbling up in her mouth until she choked, vibrant crimson liquid seeping out on the whitewhite floor painting pretty pictures, the only streak of color in a monochrome world- _

_She-_

_**No-**_

Mikoto wrenched her mind back to the present, forcing her harsh breathing back to some semblance of regularity, heartbeat slowing. The unmistakable scent of antiseptic and cheap detergent filled her nose. Mikoto sighed, calming as she relaxed back on her narrow bed. She was just in the hospital again.

"I wouldn't move if I were you." An air of quiet menace permeated every word.

Mikoto froze, her heart turning to ice. Forget death, if that woman was here, then her very _existence_ was forfeit. _"Goodbye, sweet world."_ Mikoto silently dispensed her final sentiments, shedding all ties to this life. She mechanically shifted her head in the direction of the voice. Her entire body had stiffened in a remarkable imitation of a wooden plank.

"Ah…Tanaka-sensei, long time no see!" Mikoto attempted, in a painfully cheerful tone, adding a small chuckle to the end of her words. Her right arm twitched, almost moving up to rub the back of her head, before being abruptly halted by the stinging pain. Mikoto frowned inwardly, annoyed by the unexpected injuries. Really, what had happened that night?

In any case, Mikoto's attempt at brevity utterly failed.

"Mi~ ko~ to~ chan! You know that the children and I always like to receive visits from you! But… what did I say about getting injured?" Tanaka's voice was sickly sweet. Inwardly, Mikoto's spirit quaked. The sinking feeling of certain death permeated the yet-unseen room. Mikoto had never been this terrified in her life.

"Umm…to…not?" Mikoto pitifully offered up, hoping to appease the demon-woman-in-disguise, thereby receiving a quick and hopefully painless death.

"Why yes, Mikoto-chan, I did! So~, I'm really confused as to how you irresponsibly became injured! …Again!" Mikoto still could not see, but she could envision the sickeningly cute, pouty expression that Tanaka had assumed, the one that struck fear into the hearts of unruly patients everywhere. She began to sweat, inching away from Tanaka' voice. An iron grip clasped her on her shoulder; Mikoto froze, releasing a squeak of fear.

"E-eh? Um…this time, it really wasn't my fault! I wasn't fighting anyone or doing anything!" The grip tightened considerably; it was all Mikoto could do to prevent herself from collapsing into a quivering puddle of terror. Obviously, she had forgotten something that would undoubtedly lead to her doom. "And I'm sorry! I'll try not to get injured from now on! Please don't kill me!" Mikoto hastily tacked on the end of her excuse. Tanaka's grip loosened, releasing Mikoto's shoulder, accompanied by a put-upon sigh.

"Honestly… the things I deal with. This is certainly not how I raised you to be!" Tanaka complained, tacitly accepting Mikoto's apology. Mikoto twitched, the stirrings of annoyance finally lashing out.

"You didn't raise me at all, you insufferable woman!" Mikoto shouted, flailing her fist blindly in Tanaka's general direction.

"Maybe that's why you turned out like this!" Tanaka returned, bending over to shove her face against the metal contraption that encircled Mikoto's head. It only gave Tanaka a bruise.

"What's wrong with how I turned out?" Mikoto ground out, slightly offended. Tanaka sighed, breaking off the argument before it could escalate even more. She stepped away.

"Nothing, nothing…now, let's get this off. Your mind has recovered enough to bear the strain of your sensory abilities; this machine would only impede your progress at this point." After helping her sit up, Tanaka yanked Mikoto's head closer, prompting wordless mumbles of protest, expert hands fiddling with something behind her head. Metallic clicks and vibrations resounded, echoing in Mikoto's ears. Tanaka slipped the contraption off Mikoto's head, relieving the heavy weight that had encircled her skull.

Awareness returned, gossamer threads of electricity gleaming in the darkness, crackling electromagnetic pulses cradling Mikoto's mind. She sighed in relief, the lingering vestiges of tension easing, leaving her body limp. No one was out to get her. She had checked. The data influx was tolerable, her abilities automatically processing the information and filtering out extraneous sensations. However, her awareness was fuzzy, as if she were gazing at the world through warped glass, her perceptions comically distorted.

"Tanaka-sensei?" Mikoto hated how her voice sounded the slightest bit vulnerable.

"Yes, Mikoto-chan?" Tanaka questioned, her voice holding a faint note of concern. Her body was further away, but Mikoto could vaguely discern Tanaka's general outline.

"My electronic sensing is blurry. Is that bad?" Mikoto needed to know that this would be temporary.

Tanaka snorted dismissively. "Well of course you're abilities aren't quite up to the Level you're used to. You just suffered a _highly debilitating injury_. It's only to be expected; it will correct itself in time." Tanaka sniffed, exasperated at Mikoto's ignorance.

"Well _excuse me_ for being concerned by unexpected changes to one of my greatest assets." Mikoto apologized sarcastically, her tone biting. _"She said it would come back, so it will." _Mikoto convinced herself. _"And Tanaka-sensei would never lie about that."_ Her worries vanishing, the tight ball of dread coiled in her chest loosened. Mikoto's abilities had returned enough to warn her if someone was going to attack- it would do for now.

She tried to open her eyes, only to meet the unwelcome sight of blank, white bandages. Mikoto scowled.

"Oh, don't be like that! I'm getting to those!" Tanaka's normal cheerful voice had returned, clear of any menacing undertone. "We had to use _something_ to soak up the blood." There was a shuffle and a click, as Tanaka presumably set the headset on a table. Tapping footsteps echoed across the room, before a gentle set of hands gripped Mikoto's head, expertly unclipping and unwinding the long strip of cloth from her skull.

"The strain of the vast amounts of information pouring into your brain placed a massive amount of stress on your mind." Tanaka began lightly, never pausing in her work. Mikoto stiffened, tightening her right hand in her lap. "You were bleeding from your eyes when you came in, all the while exuding a thin layer of high-voltage electricity. If you had touched anyone, they would have died." Mikoto was silent.

"First-responders had to use high density rubber gloves to even be able to get near you. But even those melted under the heat of the sheer power you were letting out. The melting rubber left first-degree burns on your skin." Mikoto twitched; the knowledge of her extra injuries causing her body to send pain signals to her brain. _"So that's why I'm bandaged_." Mikoto reflected mentally.

"At the hospital, we managed to snap some power-limiting handcuffs on you, and put an EM wave dampening device around your head to try to mitigate the damage. Of course, the cuffs didn't limit your power completely, but the headset picked up the slack. If you had consciously tried to destroy the equipment, you would've fried them. Thankfully, you were unconscious, so our method worked. After that, we put you into a shallow medically induced coma, and sent in some specialized nanomachines to heal the damage to your mind." Tanaka finished unwrapping the bandage from Mikoto's head. Cracking open her eyes, Mikoto slowly adjusted them to the light. Fuzzy outlines of electricity hummed in her vision, wavering like a mirage in the horizon of a desert. The glowing blue lines crisscrossed the room, seamlessly joining the mental awareness humming in the back of her mind- distracting, for sure, but nowhere near painful. "You were very lucky this time." Tanaka finished, her voice steady. Mikoto sighed, giving Tanaka a slight smile.

"I know. And, I really am sorry for worrying you." Mikoto said quietly, regret thick in her voice. Tanaka smiled warmly, thick black hair falling into her eyes as she tilted her head to the side, nodding to the window.

"It isn't me you have to apologize to." Mikoto blinked in surprise, finally registering the warmth that enveloped her left hand. Glancing to the side, she was treated to the sight of a rumpled Kuroko sleeping in a chair next to her bed, clasping Mikoto's hand tightly. Kuroko was still clad in her crumpled nightgown, mussed auburn hair sticking to her face. Even in her sleep, her warm hand gripped Mikoto's tightly. Mikoto stared, uncomprehending.

"E-eh?"

Saten and Uiharu had dozed off together, squishing their slim bodies into a leather chair that was far too small for the both of them. Sunlight traced glowing golden patterns on their faces; shards of light glinted in their tangled inky black hair. They wore similar clothes; wrinkled shirts paired with worn pajama bottoms. Feet were stuffed haphazardly into mismatching shoes. During the night, the two girls had evidently tangled together into a knot of human limbs, until you couldn't tell where either began. A strangled puff of air escaped Mikoto's lips; it appeared that Saten had placed her shoes on the wrong feet. A strange warm feeling fluttered oddly in Mikoto's chest, sending an odd jolt to her heart. Her eyes prickled painfully; Mikoto told herself it was an aftereffect from her injuries.

"You've made some excellent friends, Mikoto-chan!" Tanaka remarked casually, pulling Mikoto into a light hug from behind. "Why, they practically demanded to stay by your side after you were stable! The pig-tailed girl was especially adamant; I'm certain that the one with straight black hair was going to bite me if I didn't let them in!" Tanaka laughed, sending pleasant vibrations against Mikoto's back.

"Why…" Mikoto blankly gazed at her friends' sleeping forms. Her brow furrowed in confusion. "I'm a Level Five; it's not like Academy City would just let me die. I can take care of myself. So, why…" She trailed off, at a loss. This wasn't possible; no one was supposed to care so much. This was wrong. Tanaka patted her head gently.

"Because, they care about you." Tanaka warmly explained. "They were worried, and wanted to be there when you woke up. They want to make sure, with their own eyes, that you are all right. Even if you were the strongest being in the world, they would still worry. Because they are your friends." Tanaka hummed softly, pretending to look out the window as Mikoto discretely wiped suspicious, glittering liquid from her eyes.

Mikoto cleared her throat roughly.

A pause.

"Umm…when can I be discharged?"

And the moment ended. Tanaka staggered backward, covering her face in exasperation.

"Honestly, you…you will stay here for at least a week." Her tone brokered no protests, the quiet air of menace returning to her voice as Tanaka set down her ultimatum. Mikoto, that poor, foolish girl, didn't notice.

"Bu-"

"**Or else."** A certainty of death settled over Mikoto like a cloak of lead. She squeaked, loudly, desperately scrambling for any hope of her continued survival. But the grip of the devil-woman locked around her wrist, shackling her in place. The face of despair loomed in front of her, the eternal symbol of fear. There was only one option left.

"Ye-Yes ma'am." Mikoto's will to fight crumbled away like dust in the wind.

Tanaka- 78. Mikoto- 0.

"Mmh…Onee-sama?" A groggy voice mumbled. Tanaka and Mikoto both blinked, turning towards the drowsy middle school girl. Swaying in her seat, Kuroko rubbed her eyes, half-asleep. Yawning, she focused her sleepy gaze on Mikoto.

Kuroko froze.

"Oh, sorry Kuroko. Did we wake you?" Mikoto apologetically asked, tilting her head to the side in apology. Kuroko stared blankly at Mikoto silently. Mikoto, concerned now, reached her hand forward, poking Kuroko's cheek.

"Kuroko? Are you okay?" Tears built up in the corners of Kuroko's eyes, spilling over onto her cheeks. She threw herself into a tight, desperate hug, knocking them both over she clung desperately to Mikoto. "Ah- Kuroko! Gerrof- " Kuroko just buried her face into Mikoto's neck even deeper, hot tears soaking into her hospital gown. Now it was Mikoto's turn to freeze.

"I was so scared…" Quiet, sobbing words, muffled by Mikoto's neck filled the silent room. "I was so scared… you kept screaming and I didn't know what to do and nothing was helping and you just kept screaming and I was so scared…" Kuroko's shaking voice degenerated into heaving sobs.

"Geez." Mikoto repeated without any heat, more out of habit than any real feeling. "Geez. I'm fine, Kuroko. Sorry for scaring you." Mikoto swallowed roughly. She…didn't really know how to deal with this. No one had worried about her like this for her for… a while. Sure, her parents loved her, but they could only visit so often. And Academy City was very strict in letting their precious Level Fives leave the city walls. Mikoto carefully began to pat Kuroko's head, gently offering some comfort to her sobbing friend. That was what you did, right? Mikoto was acutely aware and uncomfortable with her lack of knowledge in these types of situations.

Well, hopefully she wasn't messing up too badly. Over in their highly uncomfortable chair by the window, Uiharu and Saten shifted awake at the increase in noise level, groaning as waves of newly acquired back pain washed over them. As Uiharu uncoordinatedly flopped off the chair and crashed painfully to the floor, Mikoto's newly conscious state was noticed almost instantly.

"Ah! Misaka-san, you're awake!" Uiharu cried, rubbing away tears of relief mixed with pain. Kuroko's sobs had quieted, though she continued to cling to Mikoto tightly. Mikoto flushed slightly at Uiharu and Saten's curious stares, but made no move to change their position. Kuroko was put through quite the scare this time, so Mikoto could suffer some indignity. Thankfully, though Uiharu's eyes visibly softened and Saten gaining her usual curious glint, they made no move to comment. Mikoto could not describe how grateful she was for them at that moment.

"Yeah, we're glad you alright!" Saten chipped in, leaping out of the cramped chair with catlike grace, in stark contrast to Uiharu. "You _are_ alright now, right? 'Cause you look pretty good for someone who was badly injured. Seriously though, no one would tell us anything, just that you were in bad shape. And Shirai-san just showed up at our houses, scaring the crap out of us, by the way, kicked us out of bed, and was like 'you're coming with me. Get some clothes.' And it probably would have been badass, except she was in those flowery pajamas. You know the ones? Anyways, I-"

"Saten-san! You're overwhelming her!" Uiharu exclaimed, arms gesticulating uselessly in an attempt to prevent Ruiko from speaking further. And indeed, Mikoto was quite overwhelmed, her mouth open slightly in shock, blinking rapidly in confusion. Slumping slightly back against her pillows, an amused puff of air escaped her lips.

"Yeah, I'm fine now." A soft smile played at the edges of her lips. The curious feeling solidified in her chest, a bittersweet pleasure. Mikoto wasn't sure if she liked it or not, but evidently, it was here to stay. Relaxing again, she reclined against her pillows in a sigh of contentment, Kuroko still planted firmly beside her.

"Tanaka-sensei says I'll be discharged in about a week. Right, Tanaka-sensei?" Mikoto glanced to the side in askance, her friends jolting slightly as they finally noticed the doctor's presence.

Tanaka clapped her hands together, tilting her head cutely. "That's right, Mikoto-chan! And while you're here, I would appreciate it if you would visit the children. They've been asking for you lately." Tanaka said brightly. Mikoto nodded.

"Sure, that's no trouble. Sorry I haven't visited in a while. I've been…busy." She replied delicately.

"I'm sure the children will understand. After all, the sudden disappearance of their older sister figure will have no negative effects on their mental state or induce lifelong trauma. They definitely won't suffer permanent emotional scarring due to your neglect, and become criminal elements of society. But, worry not, I'm sure they'll forgive you instantly!" Tanaka's light laughter was distinctly out of place in the sudden atmosphere of depression.

"I-I'm a failure as a human being…" Mikoto whimpered, curling up into a dense ball of self-hate. Gloom hung in a poisonous miasma above her head.

"There, there, Misaka-san. I'm sure it's not as bad as it seems." Uiharu patted Mikoto's shoulder sympathetically, providing scant comfort in the presence of such total despair.

There was a pause.

"By the way, what happened last night? No one would tell us anything!" The atmosphere snapped back to normal as Mikoto broke out of her bout of depression. Of course, the question came from Saten, who was wiggling slightly from suppressed curiosity. Mikoto grinned slightly at the familiar event. Frankly, she was surprised that Saten managed to keep a lid on her insatiable need for knowledge for so long.

"Yes, Onee-sama," Kuroko agreed, peeling herself away from Mikoto's side, though keeping a tight grip on her wrist. Her eyes were red and her face was pale, but her voice was strong as she spoke. Mikoto sighed, relieved at her friend's recovery. "I believe you owe us an explanation. We were only informed that whatever came over you is _classified_." The distain Kuroko felt at being felt in the dark was clear.

This brought Mikoto pause, freezing any amusement into an icy dread. _'That's right. They're gonna want answers now.'_ The determined gazes of her friends meet her own in somber conviction. They would not be dissuaded.

"Ah, well, that's…umm… Tanaka-sensei, help?" Mikoto panicked, grasping for any desperate hope to save her from the curiosity of her friends.

"Now, Mikoto-chan, I'll just go fetch you some food! I know how you love Nemu-san's Meatloaf Surprise!" A look of abject horror twisted across Mikoto' features. Her friends looked on curiously at the byplay.

"You…you traitor! Have you no honor!" Mikoto roared, snatching her pillow to launch as a high-speed projectile, in a highly scientific and sophisticated attack, as befitting of one of her status.

Tanaka smiled, slipping away through the open door, dodging all Mikoto's rapid-fire shots with practiced ease.

"I'll just leave you to your grueso- I mean, your kind and loving friends. Tee hee!"

"What the hell is wrong with you?" The halls of the hospital echoed with Mikoto's familiar cries of fury.

/~/~/~/~/~/

**Author's Note:**

**Sorry this chapter took so long to get out; I've had a lot of homework lately. It kind of felt like it was dragging on and on when I was writing this, so I decided to cut it off here. Worry not! This section-idea-thing will be completed and hopefully finished in the next chapter. I'll try to get it out as soon as possible, but I honestly don't know how long it will take. At a guess, it'll probably be about two to three weeks.**

**Sorry if this chapter didn't make a lot of sense, but I promise that the next one will contain all of the explanations. Basically, without giving too much away, Mikoto's abilities sent her mind into sensory overload. Sort of like what happens during a migraine, but much worse. (Because everything is more dangerous in Academy City.) I've always thought that the passive effects of Mikoto's abilities were tragically underdeveloped, which is a shame because I think they're really cool. **

**But yeah, if you didn't already know, Mikoto has the ability to sense electric, electromagnetic, and magnetic fields. When she became a Level Five, she unexpectedly developed the ability to see them with the naked eye. (That's cool, folks.) Anyways, the anime stated that electric type espers process this data subconsciously, **_**whether they want to or not**_**. Wow. That means Mikoto literally **_**cannot**_** stop feeling every fluctuation in the electric fields around her. In this short story, I just made that have some consequences. I do have explanations for why she isn't in constant sensory overload, but the full explanation is in the next chapter. So ha, now you'll have to keep reading.**

**Also, this story-idea-thing occurs after the Sisters arc. As always, reviews are welcome, encouraged, and greeted with exclamations of "Hallelujah!" If you don't tell me where I suck, I will continue to suck and you will continue to get frustrated at my writing. Speculation is welcome, as are insults various languages. As long as they are creative.**

**Disclaimer: I really, really, really don't own To Aru Kagaku no Railgun. Really. Unfortunately, my sole possession in life is a Slinky. And it's broken. **


	4. Short Circuit: Part Two

Because no power comes without a price.

Chapter 3: Part 2

The Previous Night

Saten Ruiko didn't know how it had ended up like this. Muffled sobs echoed quietly, simple white noise in the back of her mind, keeping time with the rythmetic beeping of the monitors in a twisted, demented symphony of anguish. Colors were muted, dim. They ran together in warped, muddy paths, as if reality were a mournful watercolor painting, a mere faded copy of ancient tragedy. Light sank into the small window, a pit of darkness mixed with the rain -tap tap tapping- on the cool glass. Machines crowded around Mikoto's bedside in a mob of chattering, buzzing metal, dwarfing the bed by virtue of sheer number. Though it lay slumbering by fault of recent events, her insatiable curiosity stirred, and she distantly wondered what they were for.

Florescent lights bleached the skin of her friends, casting haggard shadows and deepening frowns. Uiharu and Saten sat in a leather chair large enough to comfortably seat one. Neither one complained. It didn't seem right, not with their friend in such battered shape. Kuroko sat silent and still by Mikoto's bedside, blank-faced and eyes bright with tears, gripping the limp, waxy hand in a desperate grip.

-This is wrong.-

Mikoto lay unmoving in the narrow cot, her form strangely pale and fragile, surrounded by the white expanse of the sheets. The slight rise and fall of her chest singularly distinguished her body from that of a corpse. Bandages covered Mikoto's arms, the winding gauze disappearing underneath the pink regulation hospital gown. A slim, metallic machine encircled her upper face, humming steadily in the quiet room. It was a lump of glass and metal and thought, the single thread connecting the silent patient to the world. Mikoto's chestnut hair lay limp on the starched pillow, poking out in rumpled spikes around the machine and the bandages.

-This is so wrong.-

Saten clenched her fists in her lap, tears stinging in her eyes. Mikoto wasn't supposed to be like this, all cold and pale and lifeless. That's not who she was. Mikoto was made for people, for friends to trust and to be trusted in turn. For Gekota and school and embarrassing situations and afternoons filled with laughter and light. Mikoto burned with life, though her deep passion hid behind a scowling veneer to keep the world away. She didn't often vocalize her emotions, but she didn't need to. Mikoto showed her compassion in every action, in words left unspoken whose meanings went unnoticed.

Saten let out a shuddering breath. Raising her hands to her face, she harshly rubbed away the tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. Her mind, her artfully supressed intelligence shook the dust off its back, lending her a glimpse, a quicksilver flash of an idea, like light glinting off a silvery scale in murky, deep water. Saten stood, gently extricating herself from the too-small chair. Patting Uiharu on the shoulder in comfort, Saten took in a deep breath. "This… isn't helping." She asserted, voice watery with unshed tears. Uiharu muffled her sobs, turning her confused gaze towards her friend. Kuroko stiffened, but did not move. "This isn't helping." Saten repeated, stronger this time. "Just sitting here, crying. This isn't helping."

"Then what, " Kuroko bit out, glancing to the side, the sharp gleam of desperation pinning Saten in place,"Would you have us do?" At a loss for a moment, Saten paused.

"Wait-"

"Don't fuck with me." Kuroko hissed, tension gleaming razor-sharp in every line of her body, feral rage ripping through her words. Both Uiharu and Saten blinked in shock, having never expected crass language from the unflappably lady-like Shirai Kuroko. In hindsight, it was understandable. If anything could cause Kuroko to act erratically, it would be her beloved Onee-sama. "Wait? You want me to wait? When Onee-sama is in pain and I don't know what's wrong and you want me to wait!" Kuroko whirled around, never losing her grip on Mikoto. Now in full view, Saten could see the deep panic and guilt sunken in her eyes, gnawing and worming its way to the surface. "Don't even joke about that…" Kuroko's voice cracked, head bowing under the weight of despair. She slumped back down into her chair. "Don't even joke…"

Saten paused, before drawing up her shoulders, gathering her courage around her like a tattered cloak. "Like I was saying," Saten continued as if Kuroko had not just had a small-scale mental breakdown, her eyes fierce and mouth set in a determined expression, fists tightening at her sides. "We should wait for Misaka-san to wake up. That doctor, the one that let us stay here, she knows what happened to Misaka-san. But she said that she wasn't allowed to tell us. That what happened was classified. But, doesn't that also mean that Misaka-san can tell us?"

A pause. Slowly, Kuroko straightened, a spark of hope smoldering in her eyes. "I- yes, Saten-san." Her voice was a breathless whisper, brimming with shock. It wasn't often that Shirai-san was blindsided like that, Saten thought ruefully. "Why yes, I do believe that's true." Kuroko's mouth twitched. Saten cheered mentally; it wasn't quite a smile, but she'd take what she could get.

"So," Saten pressed on, "When Misaka-san wakes up, we'll ask her what happened. No one just collapses in the middle of the night like that, not without a very, very good reason." Her eyes met the gazes of both of her friends, steady and blazing with purpose. "And then, when we know what's wrong, we can help her." Steel firmed her tone; her conviction was like iron. Kuroko's hopeful expression wavered, falling from desbelieving euphoria to jaded expectation in less than a second.

"She won't tell us." Kuroko asserted, voice flat, her eyes still glittering with tears. "She doesn't tell us important things like this. Like whatever she's been doing these past couple of weeks. I thought it was over, but still-"

"Then I'll hack the Databanks, the administration servers, hospital records, anything, to find what we need." Uiharu, her voice wrought with emotion, chimed in. She had stopped crying, the skin around her eyes red and raw. But her eyes burned with determination, so much like Saten's own. "No one can keep me out of their systems. If the information is there, I'll find it. And it will be there."

Kuroko gazed at Saten and Uiharu with something akin to shock, before a tear slipped down her cheek. The flat expression fell away, hope burning brighter and hotter with every passing moment. "So… this time, I can help Onee-sama?" Her voice broke, trembling with emotion.

"Yeah." Saten replied, a hand reaching out to pat Kuroko's shoulder, a gentle smile on her face. "We're all going to help her this time." Uiharu and Saten stood silently as their friend finally cried, not tears of anguish, but of relief. The night stood still, the dusky remnants of thunderclouds hovering in the heavens, blotting out the stars and hesitantly reaching down to graze the bowed heads of skyscrapers with wispy fingertips. The storm had passed.

"Goodnight."

/

I am a horrible person. Feel free to launch flaming arrows of destruction upon my kingdom of lies. Actually, don't. I don't have the money to replace my kingdom of lies, for I am a poor, broke high schooler.

On a more serious note, I'm sorry this isn't the concluding chapter I promised. I'm having a suprisingly difficult time condensing my mad scribbled theories into a legible format, while also juggling multiple people in a balanced conversation. While also including actual emotion. I have discovered the horror known to all writers- writer's block. It's more frustrating than I thought it would be.

On an even more serious note, the reason it took so long to get even this much of the story out is due to a combination of factors- namely schoolwork, time constraints, and computer issues. Yes, indeed, I do have a life outside of writing.

It's horrible.

I've had a bunch of schoolwork lately, meaning less time to write, and my hard drive crashed a few days after I posted the last chapter, wiping all of my files and taking my stories with it into the firey pits of hell in an extravagent fall from grace. So, everything I had previously written is gone, pushing my writing schedule back even further.

Yeah.

It's been one of those months.

I've been working hard at concluding the chapter-idea-thingie, but then I realized a month had passed, and just decided to clean up and publish the beginning. (As in, the only part that makes sense right now.) I felt that it would be better than waiting even longer for the whole thing.

So yeah, sorry about the wait.

Most importantly, thanks to everyone who reviewed! You guys are the best! Honestly, they were very encouraging to read, and mean a lot to me. You all receive a single unit of worthless Imaginary currency! Aren't you excited? Your lives have just been made complete. No- don't thank me. It's a gift.

Reviews are always encouraged- they make me all fuzzy inside.

Thanks for reading, and Happy Thanksgiving!

- Resfeber

Disclaimer: I don't own To Aru Kagaku no Railgun, nor any of the characters. They've just hijacked my brain for a bit. (Really, they're quite rude.)


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